I learned that marketing is the most important and the most difficult part of business (and by “business” I mean everything, including product development). It’s the most important because without it, both you and your potential customers are blind. You can build the coolest piece of technology in the world, but if it doesn’t solve a problem people care about or if the right people don’t know about it, you have no business. Likewise, you can be the world’s best fundraiser, convincing investors that you have the Next Big Thing, but your investors are not likely to also be your customers. Marketing is the most difficult part of business, not because it is academically rigorous or difficult to understand, but precisely because it is not academically rigorous. I believe that a large part of the vacation-like reputation that business schools have for some is due to the study of marketing – we watch commercials and read ads from big, successful companies; we learn about writing survey questions; we watch videos of people shopping in grocery stores; and when it comes to making recommendations, we seem to pull something out of thin air and say, “this looks like a good idea.” The part that makes marketing so difficult is that it’s impossible to logically prove that you’re doing the right thing. Good marketers are good because they know the tools, know when to apply them, and have an innate understanding of the mindsets of their customers. Just as sportscasters cannot prove whether or not the Packers will win their first regular season game, good marketers cannot develop logical arguments that will prove their correctness – they just simply get it right most of the time. And getting it right takes an immense amount of research, insight, and luck. And that’s precisely why it’s so difficult.
I learned to believe that I know what I’m talking about. Back in October, I attended a business plan review for a pair of entrepreneurs, put on by the Graduate Entrepreneur Club. Two second-year MBA’s spent an hour launching pertinent questions at the entrepreneurs, driving the conversation to complex levels and prompting many “we hadn’t thought of that” responses. I was lost. It wasn’t that the conversation was beyond my understanding, it was that I knew there was no way I could have carried on such an insightful and valuable conversation with the entrepreneurs. But just several months later, in my first service rendered as an Innovation Fellow at the Hoosier Hatchery, I sat down with an entrepreneur and talked through all aspects of his business and helped set his direction in a chat that lasted an hour and a half. I knew that I provided a lot of value because there were many aspects of his business that he hadn’t thought about or didn’t know about, and were exactly the aspects I had been developing an expertise around in business school.
I learned what I was hoping to learn: How to be a successful innovation leader in a corporate setting. The ideas I read and heard about from Clayton Christensen, Jeff Covin, and Dr. K caused light bulbs to turn on time and time again. But what excites me most is that there is still much for me to learn in this area, as well as much to be discovered in the field. I hope that someday soon I’ll be able to offer my own innovation initiatives as subjects to further this research.
Was it worth it? If I said “no,” I would be admitting that I blew nine months of my life and a heck of a lot of money, but truthfully, deciding to go to business school was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. I can now put context around what I did (and can still do) as an engineer, allowing me to understand everything from how what I’ve built interacts with the customer to how team members interact with each other. I believe it’s that broad mindset that makes the MBA worth it. And what’s more, I have made great friends and contacts and learned a fabulous amount from the diverse student body at Kelley.
After exiting the student lounge, I climbed the stairs to cross over to the old Kelley School building, passing by plaques with the likenesses of wealthy alumni donors and wondering if I would ever be in such a position. After dropping my paper into the appropriate box, I turned my mind to the next adventure: a summer of putting my new-found skills to use at eBay, back in my adopted home of Silicon Valley.
